


some are like the heat

by clemmingtine



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dumb Crushes, M/M, Shower Sex, emo love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clemmingtine/pseuds/clemmingtine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat is driving Michael insane. Or maybe it's just Harry. Set during TMH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some are like the heat

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last summer when Michael and Harry were in full on love mode, and thought I'd finally post it since it's been a regular drought this tour. Hope you enjoy :-)

It’s hot in Houston.

Michael knew that, on some level, knew that there was deserts and, he thought faintly, maybe cactuses. Cacti? And big hats, and space shuttles. But it was hot. He was sprawled across the hotel room bed, staring at the ceiling and checking his phone for service periodically. The other three had gone down to Niall’s to play Playstation, but Michael had begged off. He knew Ashton at least suspected he was having a wank, but fuck him. It was too hot even for that.

He heard a scuffling knock on his door and groaned. The door was locked- they kept it like that since Boston, when some girl had gotten on their floor and been inches from the door until Luke came into the hall and saw her. Michael suspected they had stuttered at each other until she felt so uncomfortable she had to leave.

“Open the door,” the knocker yelled, and Michael grinned despite himself. “Shut the fuck up you wanker,” he shouted back, and heaved himself on the bed. He pulled apart the deadlock- his hands weren’t shaking, he wasn’t a twelve year old with a crush- and opened the door.

Harry was half leaning on the door when he opened it, and he came staggering in, leaning on Michael for a second before shuffling over to the bed and flopping down. “S’hot,” he whined, and Michael tried to scowl convincingly.

“I know that, and I don’t even have a fucking scarf tied ‘round my head.”

“It’s a bandanna, it’s tough. Shut up, you're wearing jeans too, we’re both idiots.”

Michael had to agree with that, although Harry’s jeans were even tighter than his.

“Why aren’t you at Niall’s, then,” he said abruptly, trying to stop thinking about Harry’s legs.

“I was. Came looking for you. Ashton said you were having a wank,” Harry said evilly, grinning up at him from Michael’s own bed, where he was spread out like a reversed snow angel. A heat angel. A sexy heat angel. Michael did need a wank.

“Ashton’s the wanker. It’s too hot for anything.”

“So you did want a wank, I thought as much. It’ll be cooler in other trousers, for both of us,” Harry changed the topic in mid-sentence, a fairly common thing for him. He was reaching for his top button. Michael was alarmed.

“Um, I haven’t got any clean shorts. Well I haven’t got any clean clothes, but all my shorts are really gross right now, so I guess I’m in jeans, too bad, ha,” Michael laughed weakly, knowing he was babbling. Harry grinned again, and Michael couldn’t have been imagining the evil cast to his eyebrows.

“I’m gonna go down to my pants. Cool off, hm?” Michael watched, frozen, as Harry slid down his zipper and rolled his tight jeans down his legs, kicking them off with an ungainly flop. He pulled off his shirt as well and laid back down, tan skin and tattoo’s against the white comforter. Michael swallowed. Harry was frequently naked or close to it in private, but he had never seen him so laid out like this. The last person who he’d seen laying on his bed like that, sweaty and in underwear, had had sex with him a few minutes later. Well, he saw Ashton and Luke and Calum in their underwear everyday, and usually laying on him, but that charm had worn off years and years ago.

Harry smiled again. “C’mon Michael, it’s so much nicer like this. Please?”

Michael tried to be casual as he sat next to Harry on the bed and fiddled with the hem of his tank top. “Oh, I dunno... We can’t all get naked all the time, it’d ruin your special thing.”

“Heyy,” Harry protested. “That’s an exaggerated story. Mostly. Don’t you want to cool down, then?”

Michael shrugged and thought “fuck it.” He pulled off his singlet and stepped out of his jeans quickly, laying down next to Harry in just his red briefs. He groaned as he felt cool air against his chest and legs. Before he could relax, Harry rolled to his side and poked Michael, face inches away from his neck. “Hi,” he said happily. Michael rolled his eyes and pinched Harry’s arm, right over the Hi! tattoo.

“Is this one your favorite?” He asked. “It was one of your first, right?”

Harry shook his head. “It was one of my first, and I like it a lot, but the birds are the best. They took ages to plan.”

Michael raised a hand, and paused for a second. Then he carefully outlined one of the birds on Harry’s collarbone, chest pounding. Harry shivered slightly. Michael froze, wondering if he’d pushed too far. Sometimes it felt like Harry and him walked a line neither of them were certain of. Harry would pull him onto his lap, give him hickeys, tease him about getting laid, pinch his sides, and crawl all over him, usually half-naked. Michael tried to give as good as he got, but Harry was harder to fluster. He’d only succeeded once, when he grabbed Harry’s ass seconds before he went on stage and he squeaked so loud the mics picked it up and carried it around the arena. But this might have gone too far.

Harry looked up at Michael, still arrayed slightly below him on the bed. He narrowed his eyes and stared at him thoughtfully. Michael couldn’t breathe. Then, suddenly, inexplicably, Harry rolled off the bed to his feet.

“You know what we need, Michael Clifford. A good cold shower. Relieve some of your pent up tension.” Michael stared up at him like he was an alien. He felt faint disappointment playing in his chest, although he told himself firmly there was no reason to.

“Erm, alright?” Michael knew he sounded confused, and hopefully not too put out. Harry smirked and turned into the bathroom, long legs shuffling away from Michael and around the corner. Groaning, he got up to follow, suddenly embarrassed at how pale he was and how much less toned he was than Harry. He shouldn’t have skipped those sessions with the trainer, especially after all the food challenges.

Harry was running the bathwater, tap still on cold. He was bent over, black briefs high in the air, and Michael had to look away before he did something embarrassing. He’s your mate, he told himself firmly. He just likes to flirt, is all. Stay in practice. Harry seemed satisfied with the temperature and pulled the knob to change to shower flow. Michael paused in the doorway.

“D’you want first shower, then?” He managed, still staring a bit at Harry’s ass. Suddenly, and Michael barely saw him start to move, Harry was right up close to him, breathing hot in his ear, “Let’s share.”

His fingers reached down and pulled at the elastic of Michael’s briefs, and Michael gulped. Audibly. Harry laughed, and turned, casually pulling off his underwear and stepping in the shower. He yelped.

“Fuck, fuck, too cold!” He felt frantically for the showerhead and twisted it over, huddled against the wall until the water warmed. Michael laughed, Harry’s distraught face breaking through his determination not to get hard. Harry glanced up at him and mock-scowled, and said, too casually, “Come on then Mikey. Wasting water.”

Michael felt like someone else was moving his body. He carefully, slowly, pulled down his underwear and took two quick steps to the tub, climbing in next to Harry under the spray, now lukewarm. Harry crowded into his personal space again- the third time of the night.

“Cold showers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” he said grumpily. “Louis got me in an ice bath once. It was horrible.”

Michael made a sound that might have been agreement. He looked down at the butterfly, then up to the birds, then to Harry’s face. Fuck, he couldn’t do this anymore.

“Harry,” be blurted, before he lost his courage. “Am I going fucking mad here or are you trying to-”

And then Harry’s lips were on his, and his back was pushed against the slick, cool walls. He moved his hands up to Harrys hair, thick with water now, and deepened the kiss reflexively. Itshappeningitshappeningitshappening was buzzing in the back of his mind, but all he could really think of was the slick press of lips, until Harry bit down on his lip and he groaned. Of course he was a biter. Michael pulled away, gasping.

“Christ, Harry,” he rasped, blinking past the stream of water flattening his hair, turning the blonde translucent and green. Harry laughed, and leaned in again.

“Been all over you since England, waiting for you to take the hint. I had to strip you down and get you in a shower with me before you said anything,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to the column of Michaels throat and biting down slightly. Michael moaned.

“Such a tease, Harry. Been going insane here, trying-” Harry raised his head and pressed his lips to Michaels again, pushing him against the tile and bearing down on him. Michael moved his hands along Harry’s slim waist, feeling the muscle underneath the tan skin. He licked his way into Harry’s mouth eagerly, pushing back slightly. He could feel himself getting hard against Harry’s thigh, which had slid its way between Michael’s legs.

Harry pulled away again with a snort. “Told you we’d relieve some tension,” he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows, and Michael had to roll his eyes. He almost passed out when they rolled even further back, as Harry kissed his way down Michaels chest, and dropped to his knees. Michael’s head hit the shower wall with a dull thunk, and he breathed hard through his nose. Harry looked up at him slowly and grinned.

“Is this OK? Michael, do you want me to..?” he trailed off, a little unsure for the first time that night it seemed. Michael almost collapsed.

“Yes, Harry, fuck, yes,” he got out through gritted teeth. “Been wanting this for ages...”

And then Harry’s mouth was on his dick, and Michael had to stop talking before he started whimpering like a puppy. It felt so good, just lips lightly sucking over the head, and Michael’s fully hard now. He’s going to come embarrassingly quickly at this rate. Harry goes down further, sucking in half of Michael’s dick and hollowing his cheeks, and Michael groans. He feels Harry smile around his dick and very faintly, feels the hard edges of his teeth. He almost bucks up at that, but Harry has one hand on Michael’s hip and one braced against the wall to help his balance.

Harry pulls off to only to say, evilly, “Don’t try and hold out, Michael. I know you’re gonna come, and my knees hurt like shit.” He goes back down even as Michael manages a choked “Fuck you.”

Harry has most of his cock down his throat now, and of course he’s good at this too. Michael takes a deep breath as Harry flicks his tongue once, then twice over his slit and Michael comes hard, lights flashing in his vision, hips arching off the wall despite the hand pressed to his hip hard enough to leave a mark. Harry swallows most of it and lets the rest get washed away in the shower stream, leaning back on his heels and looking up at Michael.

“Help me up?” He asked casually, as if he hadn’t just sucked Michael’s dick in a hotel shower two minutes after kissing him for the first time. Michael extends a shaky hand, still feeling the aftershocks. Harry climbs to his feet and Michael realizes for the first time that Harry is hard too, long, thick cock standing against his stomach.

“Give me... a hand?” Harry says, unable to stop himself from giggling, and Michael rolls his eyes yet again even as he smiles. It was still just Harry.

“Yeah,” he breathed, and kissed Harry again, softly, as he slid his hand down his stomach to his cock. He had only done this once before, at a party with a guy he barely knew, but he had the basics down. He gave a tug at the base and ran his thumb up one of the veins on the underside of his cock and Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“God, yes, Michael, like that,” he groaned, and Michael was so pleased that he had made Harry Styles make that noise he redoubled his efforts, running his hand lightly up and down Harry’s dick and then giving it a few good wanks. He kissed Harry even harder and then bent his knees to suck at Harrys collarbone, just above the left bird, just as he gave a twist at the head, and Harry came with a moan, spilling all over Michaels hand before the shower washed it away. They both stood there for a moment, Michaels hands on Harry's waist, Harry half-leaning against the shower wall.

Michael just had sex with Harry Styles. He had shower sex, in fact. He wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“C’mon,” Harry drawled, “you’ll prune up in here. Back to the bed, I think?” Harry climbed out of the tub, grabbing one of the fluffy white towels on the rack across the room. Michael just stared at him for a second, all lean wet lines and ink. He wasn’t completely sure if Harry meant both of them together, or if this was just something he did- sucked off his friends and then left like nothing had happened.  Harry looked at him, and seemed to see Michael’s hesitation.

“Come with me, emo,” he said softly, reaching out his hand, and Michael smiled. He beamed. He clambered out and Harry tossed a towel at him as well, rubbing down his hair and legs. Harry pulled on his discarded underwear after he was dry, looking over his shoulder with a smirk and saying, “Other’s might come back anytime. You’re sharing with Ashton tonight, right?” Michael nodded, and followed Harry’s lead.

They stumbled back to the room together, Michael giggling slightly as Harry flopped weakly onto the huge bed again, damp hair spraying drops across the pillows. Michael climbed up next to him and laid down, facing Harry. Harry looked at him.

“So, erm, I sort of have a crush on you?” Michael offered half-heartedly, a little concerned Harry might laugh it off. Instead, Harry hit him. “Ow!”

“I like you too, emo, or I wouldn’t have just sucked your dick. I don’t just do that to everyone I meet.”

“Really? I saw this post once, on Tumblr, and-”

Then Harry’s lips were on his again, and his chest pressed against Michael’s, and somehow Michael completely forgot what he had been about to say. When Ashton came back, an hour later, he found them sitting respectably watching TV. Harry’s hair was mostly dry and his lips were even pinker than usual. Houston was hot, but Michael felt a slow burn under his skin that might have been even hotter. The rest of this tour is going to be wicked, he thought, and when he looked at Harry he thought he could maybe see what was burning him up inside.


End file.
